


The Sun

by extremesoft



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: A speck of fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling, Firsts, Language, Lots of confusion, M/M, and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-04-04 14:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14022522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremesoft/pseuds/extremesoft
Summary: It's a testing winter testing. Daniel would chuckle at that if he wasn't so thoroughly annoyed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SenorCasillas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenorCasillas/gifts).



> Fresh from the oven. Or the Word. I think we all heard what Daniel thought of the weather in Barcelona...  
> (Gee how nice it is to write new stuff instead of just translating old~ Being on sick leave has its upsides.)
> 
> For The Dude, for inspiring and reminding of the importance of keeping it real.

  


Barcelona is in Spain. Spain is in the southernmost part of whole Europe, it should be one of Europe's warmest places. And now it's fucking _snowing_ there.

This isn't what Daniel thinks he's signed up for.

He can't deny he has just had a very pleasant winter holiday, no sir. A few weeks' worth of nothing but fun-filled days with his friends and family on the other side of the world, away from work, media, pressure, rush, everything. And most importantly, in the sun. In the warm embrace of its golden rays, under the loving gaze of the one gleaming eye looking down upon him from the skies. And although he's of course joking when he says he did contemplate not coming back to Europe at all, ever, he can't help thinking that this shit is _definitely_ not what he signed up for, it's so damn freezing all the time and now he's also on the verge of boring to death since he can't even drive the fucking car like he was supposed to do and like he wanted to because the skies have decided to dump that cold wet white crap on them.

So fuck that and fuck Barcelona and fuck everything. Why do the tests have to be carried out there anyway, why can't the testing be done somewhere warm, like somewhere where they can actually be _sure_ it'll be warm and dry and they all wouldn't have to waste valuable testing time just hanging around like a bunch of idiots, looking up at the sky every fifteen seconds and filling their Instagrams and Twitters with stuff about how they can't do anything sensible right now, haha, look, we built a snowman and now we have a snowman and the Iceman, how funny is that. Jesus Christ.

And of course Daniel jokes about it all as well and it'll get better, yeah yeah yeah, but right now he's just so pissed off he could steal the new RB14 from the garage - it's not like the team is able to do anything with it anyway as they can't fucking test it - and drive all the way back to Oz, non-stop.

Sigh. It's a testing winter testing. Daniel would chuckle at that if he wasn't so thoroughly annoyed.

And he knows he should probably just get out and see people instead of straight up wallowing in misery, it would do him a world of good, but somehow he gets some sort of weird satisfaction from this also, thinking that oh yeah, this is the real Honey Badger right now, ladies and gentlemen, not smiling, not joking around, not having fun at all, just being a moping homesick jerk instead, a racecar driver who can't drive, a ray of sunshine who can't seem to get even himself to warm up, no matter what he tries to do.

Pathetic.

A small knock on the door interrupts the perfectly decent wallowing taking place, and a recognizable soft voice says "Daniel?" before the door slightly opens and Max's head pops through it. 

"Can I- oh..."

Max feels his heart both melt and ache at the sight of his teammate at that moment. It seems like the Aussie has put on all possible items of clothing he has gotten his hands to; he's wearing layers and layers of shirts, a hoodie, a softshell, a beanie, a scarf, even gloves. He's just sitting there, hidden inside all that fabric as if trying to hide from the cold itself, looking smaller than ever, curled up into a ball in the farthest corner of the sofa, strikingly sad eyes peeking from above the edge of the scarf covering most of his face. Max can see his cheeks slightly moving, Daniel trying to smile at him behind the scarf, but none of that still reaches his eyes, so Max knows it's not real.

"Are you okay?" Max asks, knowing perfectly well Daniel's not okay.  
"Yeah, I..." begins Daniel's muffled response, as always, of course he's always a-okay; but as he sees the incredulous look on Max's face he's forced to give up straight away. He can't fake it, not for Max. Fuck Max also, for knowing him well enough to see straight through him. He lowers his gaze to his hands.  
"Nah, I..."

Max steps in and closes the door behind him. Daniel doesn't know whether to be irritated or pleased about his idiot teammate just appearing from thin air and clearly inviting himself in without bothering to ask Daniel about it, but somehow he's got the feeling that something good might actually come out of all this.

"You miss home", says Max as he sits down next to Daniel. Just like that, simply and sharply, letting the truth roam uncontrollably around in the room. Daniel bites his lip behind the scarf and nods.  
"Yeah, I..." he starts again before tugging the edge of the scarf down from his face to be able to properly speak, and it actually startles Max a bit to see how unhappy Daniel really looks.  
"It just sucks, y' know. To spend a nice holiday in Oz, it's warm and sunny, you can do anything and go around, like, barefoot and whatever, not a care in the world... and then to return to work just so you can freeze to death first and then notice you're actually unable do the work you set out to do because the weather's crap. It feels like such a waste of time, to be here freezing my arse off and wailing about how bored I am, when I feel like I could have maybe gotten just a couple more days or even hours of sun and warmth if I'd known this..."

Max feels really bad for Daniel as he sees the dreamy expression he has on his face when he speaks of the sun and the warmth. The weather has not been that trying from Max's point of view, of course not, Max coming from even farther north and being used to the cold and the snow, although he's also extremely frustrated by the testing coming to a complete halt because of it. But Max knows just how much the Aussie loves home and hates cold, having said that he's a summer boy all the way himself, and Max knows this must actually be really hard for him to take. And he'll get over it, there's no question about it, but right now the contrast between carefree leisure and work is really just as striking as Daniel has described it to be and seems impossible to overcome.

"I know", says Max and places his hand on Daniel's foot, giving it a little squeeze. "Or I would actually say I _don't_ really know, it's not that bad for me because I'm used to the cold and I'm not that far away from home. But I know it must be hard for you, coming all the way from sunny Australia straight to this."  
Daniel slowly nods. "It is. I'm not gonna lie. This Europe of yours, it sucks", he says, looking tired but with the corner of his mouth briefly shooting upwards; it makes Max feel at least slightly relieved despite his chest still aching with compassion.  
"I'm sorry for my Europe sucking so much", he says, straight-faced, managing to finally crack a proper smile out of Daniel and feeling almost triumphant over that. "I'll make sure it won't happen again. Not in my Europe. But you're right, it's so frustrating to just hang around and do nothing when all you want to do is test the new car. Especially after remembering what last year's car was like..."  
Daniel rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you get cautious and just want to be able to make sure there's at least something to _maybe_ get excited about..."

Daniel suddenly shivers and it doesn't escape Max's attention. Daniel bites his lip; he's trying so hard not to be cold, but he's just still so damn cold he hasn't been able to take even the gloves off. He looks a bit sheepish and begins fumbling with the edge of the scarf again.

Max is having none of it. He just can't stand seeing Daniel like that.  
"You're freezing. Come here", he says and extends his arm in a wordless suggestion for Daniel to move closer. 

Daniel can't help getting completely taken by surprise, certainly not imagining his teammate to be the person he would end up in this kind of situation with, despite them getting along and being close and all that. But then again he's cold, and being held for a moment by Max also doesn't seem like the worst thing that can happen to him in this life. So yeah, why not. He shrugs and nods.  
"I'm pathetic", he mumbles apologetically as he sits upright and slowly shifts.  
"No you're not", answers Max in his familiar straightforward no-bullshit way, which Daniel finds himself being surprisingly thankful for. "You're just cold and I hope this helps."

Daniel is hesitant, he doesn't know how close exactly he's expected or permitted to move and ends up both being ridiculously tense and leaving an awkward two-inch wide gap between them, not saying a word since he doesn't really have any at this point. Max huffs and closes the gap himself before wrapping his arm around Daniel's shoulders.  
"Sorry, I know it's maybe a bit strange, but you will not get any warmer if you're too far."

They've hugged each other numerous times, they're always being relatively touchy-feely and it has never really felt weird for either of them, but there's something about the sudden intense proximity of Max and about the whole thing that throws Daniel a bit off and makes it hard for him to just roll with it at first. But just after a short while of being nudged against Max he can't help noticing, to his mild astonishment, that he's actually not that cold anymore; and he allows himself to lay his head against Max's shoulder, close his eyes and finally properly relax with a deep sigh.

Max feels Daniel's rigidity disappearing and his heart swells. He smiles and gently squeezes the Aussie's arm, and suddenly nothing of it is so strange anymore.  
"It's going to be okay", he says softly. "And I'm not the sun of course, but I'm glad if I can do something to make you feel a bit better. You seemed so cold."  
"Nah", answers Daniel lazily, eyes still closed, realizing he's actually somewhat enjoying himself now, or at least he's quite warm and not feeling so crappy anymore thanks to Max. "You're my sun and my moon and... whatever it was, stars, and my planets..."  
Max chuckles and pats Daniel's shoulder. "Touching."

He boldly dares to rest his head against Daniel's and closes his eyes as well, and they both find they're comfortable there, in silence and in warmth.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel vaguely wonders if any of the other drivers on the grid ever do anything like this - especially with their teammates -, seek for comfort and warmth, for glimpses of sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this story just completely started to live it's own life after it rained in Australia as well.

Is it never going to stop raining on him?

First there was the god-awful snow and cold in Barcelona and now that he's back in Oz it's raining _even there_ and just to add the mandatory icing on the already shitty cake he's gifted with a grid penalty. In his home grand prix. The first grand prix of the season. Where he also didn't even get to start the race last year. Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.

Daniel is so disappointed he's unable to bring himself to focus on anything. He’s done his interviews and he’s done the analyzing and he’s done all the talking expected of him and now he's doing nothing. He tries to look at his phone but sees nothing but colourful mess on the screen; he's not hungry, and if he was he would probably head to the nearest grill anyway and eat five triple cheeseburgers with extra whipped cream or something like that just because _fuck it_ ; he doesn't want to train his neck for what must be the thousandth time this day, and with his luck right now he would probably just end up breaking it if he tried. He doesn't want to talk to anybody, he doesn't want to do anything. He knows he's probably being amazingly stupid, again, but he can't help feeling like the Oz he missed so much during winter testing has let him down big time. In Barcelona he was being a moping homesick jerk alright; and now he's being a moping jerk sick of home.

_Just make up your fucking mind, will you._

Has starting a new season always been this hard for him? Really? Like every time he checks his watch it's shit o'clock again? He can't seem to remember anymore, his mind being as grey and clouded as the treacherous skies over Melbourne.

As he is absent-mindedly thinking about crappy weather and crappy Melbourne and crappy everything, however, he remembers how it was in Barcelona, and then he remembers Max. How strange it had felt that out of all the people around Daniel it had been his own teammate who had somehow managed to lift his spirits basically by just being there when he had thought he had really hit the low. Sure it had been a bit weird and unusual and all that, there’s no question about it, but…

There’s also no way around the fact that it still had actually made him feel better.

And Daniel had of course made a big joke out of it at that time, what else, but for a moment he had almost maybe felt like Max had really been the sun he missed so much to him that day, warming him up, _lighting_ him up.

Daniel thinks it’s ridiculous, to say the least, how quickly and hard the sudden need to see Max hits him. Like what the hell, it’s his teammate, his first and foremost rival and worst enemy and all that usual crap, or at least he’s someone who must have a million better things to do with his time than witness _his_ older, wiser, faster and definitely better-looking teammate being a pathetic, frustrated mess yet again.

Daniel buries his face in his hands, huffs, feverishly rubs his cheeks. 

And then he makes his decision, feeling like it’s the first proper whole decision he’s made in a long time, gets up and walks out of the room.

The door to Max’s room is slightly open. Daniel peeks inside; Max is slouched on the small sofa, staring at his phone and very slowly scrolling through something that to Daniel looks like his Instagram feed. So okay, Max is definitely not doing anything of utmost importance at the moment. That’s good enough for Daniel. He steps in and presses the door shut; Max turns his head as he hears the sound of the door being closed and is clearly surprised to see the Aussie, and Daniel walks so fast Max barely manages to shoot upright and shift a little before Daniel slumps straight next to him and leans his head against Max's shoulder, not saying a word. 

Now it's Max's turn to get completely taken aback. He would of course be lying if he was to say that he wasn’t happy about seemingly managing to cheer Daniel up in Barcelona, and he admits that. To himself at least. And okay, he has maybe given that moment a second thought afterwards. Maybe even a third, or a tenth. But besides a couple of jokes they haven’t spoken about it or done anything like that again; and Max hasn’t expected anything from Daniel, assuming Daniel isn’t expecting anything from him either, thinking it had been a one-off thing anyway and that it hadn’t necessarily been as much about _Max_ making Daniel feel better as it had been about Daniel just relaxing and warming up and feeling better solely because of that.

But now Daniel is there again, looking just as heartbreakingly unhappy as he had looked in Barcelona, and through the surprising amount of confusion Max feels what seems almost like an _instinct_ kicking in. He nudges his arm lightly against Daniel’s to let him know he wants him to move; Daniel raises himself a bit, and Max lifts his arm over Daniel’s head, swiftly brushing the dark curls in the process, and gently wraps it around Daniel’s shoulders. Daniel returns to lean against Max, resting his head against the young Dutchman’s shoulder. Not a word is spoken, not a word is needed. Daniel vaguely wonders if any of the other drivers on the grid ever do anything like this - especially with their teammates -, seek for comfort and warmth, for glimpses of sunlight; or is everything everywhere else just about the endless, bitter rivalry.

Max turns his head to look at Daniel, seeing only the messy mop of hair and wondering if he would get away with stroking it, just a bit, ever so lightly, or would Daniel punch him in the face just a bit but not so lightly if he tried. Daniel feels Max’s breath on his forehead, and for some reason he doesn’t dare to look.

“I’m sorry”, says Max softly.  
Daniel is sure Max gets exactly what’s going on, and so he doesn’t even begin to explain himself any further. Max probably just _knows_ already, so why bother. Daniel is so grateful for that that it actually makes him feel slightly uncomfortable now that he thinks of it more in depth.  
"This sucks and I’m being so pathetic again.”  
“No you’re not.”  
“Y' remember the last time? Last time just I wanted to get the fuck out of Barcelona and head back to Oz more than anything, and now that I'm here I'm all ready to just forget about it and move straight on to Bahrain. And it’s ridiculous how hard I’m just letting it all get to me, y’ know… I’m acting like a five-year old, for Christ’s sake."  
Max squeezes Daniel’s shoulder. “I know. It just feels even worse when it’s in your home grand prix, doesn't it, like the place you’ve missed so much and where you can’t wait to prove yourself in front of your home crowd is somehow letting you down... Those things could happen anywhere, but they still hit harder when they hit at home.”  
“Yeah, exactly”, mumbles Daniel, incapable of saying anything else, his mouth suddenly drying and his head buzzing as he gets to properly thinking about how and why the hell does Max know exactly what he thinks and feels and needs and why is it suddenly like this young idiot teammate of his is the only person in the whole wide world who truly _really_ gets him all the time. 

Daniel can’t help himself anymore, the sudden need to see Max turning into a sudden need to really _see_ him. He turns his head to look at Max just to immediately think he’s just made what feels like the biggest mistake of his life so far. Max is so close Daniel can feel his breath on his face, clearly too close, way too close for comfort.

But somehow-

_Jesus, I could-_

Daniel’s insides do a violent three-sixty when he realizes where his train of thought is headed, full speed.

_Okay no. Don’t go there. No no no no no fuck no._

And then Daniel finds himself in an exciting new situation as he’s thinking of ways to, y' know, quit existing without his teammate, who happens to have his arm comfortably wrapped around him, noticing it.

“What?” asks Max quietly, with a small smile on his lips. Daniel realizes he’s still looking at Max, for fuck’s sake, and quickly turns his gaze away again. He’s suddenly almost painfully aware of his every movement, and Max’s, instantly starting to fret about things like if he was suspiciously quick to turn his head and if he's breathing too fast.  
“Uh, sorry, nothing”, he says. “I zoned out.”  
“Are you okay?” asks Max again, now sounding a bit worried and with an odd strain in his voice that Daniel can't quite place. “And I swear to you I’ll pee in your fuel tank if you try to bullshit and say you’re okay if you’re not.”  
Daniel just can’t help laughing at the notion, and laughing out loud seems to loosen the painful knot in his insides again. He shakes his head and places his hand on Max’s knee as casually as he possibly can, squeezing it a little.  
“Yeah, I’m better. Thanks. I’m just sorry I'm being such an ass all the time.”

Max glances at the hand on his knee and tries not to have thoughts, which is easier said than done. He’s much more disappointed about Daniel looking away again than he probably should be, his throat suddenly feeling strangled.  
“It’s okay, don't worry”, he says and gives Daniel’s arm a few reassuring strokes. “And I would say I’m actually not any better. I’m just as much of an ass when I’m not feeling that great.”  
“Yeah, I reckon we’re both quite the asses, really."  
“Yeah. But maybe it’s better to have two asses who also know they're asses rather than just one ass and one that’s… not such an ass. That probably wouldn't work so well.”  
“Two asses…” giggles Daniel, realizing at the same time that yeah, he just can't help it, Max has made him laugh again, the sun has lit him up again. “We have to set up a band so we can name it that.”  
Max chuckles. “Absolutely. Or a YouTube-channel.”  
"Yeah."

Daniel gathers his courage and glances at Max again, and it makes his stomach turn and his limbs go numb because Max is _still_ just so goddamn _close_ -

_DON'T._

Daniel has to really force himself to snap out of it again; he's actually hoping he could just punch himself in the face, but he also realizes it would probably somewhat confuse Max, so he decides to get to that when he's alone.  
"Thanks, Max", he says and smiles instead.  
"You're welcome", answers Max, smiling back at him so warmly that Daniel thinks it's actually best not to look too closely. He decides to not stay for too much longer. Only for one more moment. It oddly feels to him like deciding to go home at sundown after spending a long, pleasant day on the beach.

But it's all better again after that, just like in Barcelona. He enjoys driving and he enjoys the race despite just missing the podium, the car feels right and the pace is there and it doesn't even rain again; and he even almost believes it when he tells himself that the inexplicable urge to kiss Max back there in his room was in fact just him being down and stupid and completely beside himself.  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This really is the most confused and insecure Daniel has felt in a long time.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate summary: shit's about to get really real for Daniel~

  
It doesn't rain in Bahrain, not in the literal sense at least, but as Daniel witnesses Max's weekend slowly but steadily falling to pieces he feels like he's watching the sun set over and over again, and that's when he properly realizes he may be utterly fucked.

It starts on Friday when Max’s electrics decide to kick the bucket during the first free practice session and his car has to be pushed back to the pits, and Daniel’s first initial thought is _oh shit, not again_.

And then he shoves it straight back to the back of his skull where it came from, as far as he can, startled.

The second free practice is basically about going through the motions, Max gets P5 despite everything and Daniel falls back to P6 and feels nothing out of the ordinary. It’s not too bad, it’s not that good either, but that’s the way it has been for a long time already. It’s not before Saturday evening, as Max hits the wall in the first qualifying and the party’s over all too soon for him again and Daniel thinks the same everloving thought again, when it really dawns to him that something’s not in place.

He well knows that _oh shit, not again_ is the completely wrong reaction to have. Or no, that’s not the entire truth. It’s the right reaction, but he's got a nagging feeling he’s having it for all the wrong reasons. He tries to explain it to himself first by saying that he’s just worried about whether something like that is going to happen to him as well, memories of the frustrating second half of the last season still being just a tad too fresh. It’s only natural to be thinking about whether he’s going to have to face the same disappointments all over again, isn’t it, despite topping the time sheets in FP1. And he’s seen Max make fun about the whole Friday incident on Instagram, jokingly using the hashtag ‘keep pushing’ he’s so well known for already, and that has to be a good sign, it’s not affecting him much, right?

But Daniel also knows he’s fighting a lost battle and has to eventually confess to himself in the solitude of his hotel room, once he gets there, that he may have actually thought more about Max just not deserving that shit again than he did think of himself.

For a racecar driver driven by success and ever hungry for triumph it’s inherently wrong in every possible way, no matter how exceptionally well they get along with their teammate. Daniel doesn’t get why he’s thinking what he’s thinking and tries to reason with himself first, lying flat on his back on the absurdly luxurious bed but feeling like he’s actually hovering above it, staring at the ceiling. Then he argues with himself, reasoning leading to absolutely nowhere. He lifts his arm, lays his wrist on his forehead and closes his eyes.

What in the name of fuck is going on with him? Why do his stupid thoughts revolve around stupid Max all the time now? Or even better, why the hell does it suddenly feel like his whole _being_ revolves around Max all the time, Max seeming to be the one thing guaranteed to make him feel better even in those rare times when racing alone doesn’t seem to be enough to give him the highs he’s constantly chasing? And now that he’s on that subject, should he go see Max now when it seems to be his turn to hit a rougher patch? Is he an asshole if he doesn’t, given what Max has done to him a couple of time already, or would it be overreacting and Max actually isn’t a loser in need of some goddamn cuddling whenever he’s feeling slightly worse than usual?

Wow. This really is the most confused and insecure Daniel has felt in a long time. 

And then there’s also the _something_ that surfaced in Oz.

Daniel squeezes his eyes more firmly shut, looking almost pained. He has tried to not think of it and he has tried to do the exact opposite, overthink it and then explain it away, but nothing has been of use. He wanted to kiss Max, there’s no escaping it, oh God, he wanted to kiss his own teammate, why the hell would he want to kiss his own teammate;

and worse still, why is he _still_ wanting to kiss his own teammate?

He’s thought about it ever since that brief moment in Australia. He knows it just can’t be good, not at all; but he can’t help himself, and he keeps thinking, crushing under the weight of the shame flooding through him but still all too bewitched to be able to let go. Max feels so warm, strong and yet gentle when he holds Daniel, and Daniel keeps returning to that feeling, and he keeps imagining what would have happened if he had chosen differently, if he had gone with the flow. How it would have felt like to raise a hand to cup Max's jaw, to look into his sharp, blue eyes for a moment and then dive headfirst into unknown waters and capture his mouth with his own. If Max's lips would have been as warm as his grip on Daniel. If Max would have kissed him back.

The hand on Daniel's forehead clenches into a fist and Daniel groans to himself. What the _hell_ is he thinking? Max would just kill him, if Daniel wasn’t quick enough to do that himself first, that's what he would do. Or worse, sabotage his car. And on the other hand Max isn’t even, like, that hot - as if _that_ was the biggest of Daniel’s problems, for Christ’s sake, how about the fact that Max is also definitely a guy, for starters, and his own goddamn teammate, and did he already remember to emphasize the words 'guy' and ‘teammate’ enough-

There's suddenly a barely audible knock on the door. Daniel swears he could murder whoever it is standing in the corridor and not lose any sleep over it. He sits up and gets to his feet slowly, almost reluctantly, and walks to the door with the ease of someone who's walking in a puddle of glue.

For some reason he also has a very strong hunch who it might be with his luck yet again. He finds himself getting prepared, filling his lungs with air and emptying them with a deep sigh.

And of course he's right; he opens the door to see Max, who shrugs as a greeting and looks apologetic, somehow small, and isn't even wearing a cap. Daniel tries desperately to look like he hasn't just been wallowing in thoughts about Max for God knows how long.  
"Ah, g' day."  
"Am I interrupting?" Max asks quietly. Daniel shakes his head and smiles.  
"Nah, I was just having a party here", he says, really working hard on making a joke out of it all and trying to cheer Max up. "It's the latest craze, y' know, to party alone in complete silence."

Max smiles, then chuckles and leans against the doorframe, hands still in the pockets of his shorts. Daniel completely fails in not thinking about how good Max looks like that.  
"Okay, so then I can't possibly come in, because then you wouldn't be partying alone in silence, so I'll have to go back to my room and continue doing that there."  
Daniel grins and shakes his head again, and fully opens the door.  
"Nah, it's alright. I already heard it's going out of fashion in the next two seconds", he exclaims as he walks back to the room and grabs the remote control from the desk.

Max closes the door behind him and slowly follows Daniel; Daniel turns around for a second and sees the hesitant, oddly lost expression on Max's face, and feels so lost himself he doesn't know what he’s going to do about it.  
"Sit your arse down wherever you like", he says, vaguely gesturing around the room while turning his back at Max again and familiarizing himself with how the television might work, staring at the remote way more intensely than he usually does. "Floor, balcony, bathtub..."  
Max chuckles again. "I'll try the sofa first, but I'll switch to the bathtub if it's not good."  
"Yep, sounds like a plan", laughs Daniel. He has succeeded in getting the TV to do what TVs normally do, and after some quick channel surfing he settles for a thriller that looks like it's perfect for not really being paid attention to. He grabs two water bottles from the fridge and throws Max the other one before walking to the sofa himself and slumping next to the Dutch, carefully making sure to keep just the right distance to him, not too close but not too far either, all casual, all natural, yeah, completely natural. The most natural he can manage with Max's presence now tensing him up to the point of rigidity. He lifts his legs and unceremoniously places his bare feet on the small coffee table, stretches a little.

Max looks at the feet on the table, smirks and shakes his head.  
“The next person staying here is going to love that, you know.”  
Daniel shrugs and grins. “Whatever. I’ve showered. And even if I hadn’t, the table would still just smell like success and sexiness."  
Max instantly blushes and sniggers and curses himself.  
"Sure, absolutely."  
"Maybe with some teeny tiny undertones of idiocy."  
Max chuckles. "Yeah."

They go silent again, eyes glued to the TV but not seeing what's on there; but Daniel can't stand it for long, being slightly afraid of the contents of his own mind now that Max has come to _him_.

“So, did you want to, uh, talk about it, or..?” he asks.  
Max shrugs, thinks for a moment, doesn't look at Daniel.  
"To be honest..." he starts, then pauses to bite his lip. "I would like to talk, but then again I don't really know what to say."  
Daniel nods. "Okay."  
"So actually it's really stupid that I'm here interrupting you, isn't it", sighs Max and rubs his other cheek, looking tired and worn out. "Sorry. I just... uh, sorry."  
Daniel nudges Max's arm with his elbow and finally gets Max to look at him again.  
"No worries, we've been silent before", he says. "We talked about this in Oz, didn't we? I've been an ass, now you be the ass. The two asses are at it again." He makes a soothing gesture with his hand. "No need to talk if you can't figure out how talking works. We can, just, be asses in silence if you want."  
Max chuckles lightly again and nods. "Thank you, you're... very kind."

Daniel answers that by just smiling and mimicking closing his mouth with a zipper. He's absolutely terrified, he would give anything to be able to just keep the jokes coming and not let his actual thoughts through, but he can't do that to Max, not after everything. He decides to completely ignore his screaming nerves instead; it's his turn to slowly lift his arm over Max's head and land it on the backrest of the sofa, behind Max's neck. Still all casual, still all natural, just in the unlikely case Max actually was a loser in need of some goddamn cuddling after all. He doesn't dare to look but he hears the rustling and feels the shifting as Max takes the wordless offer and leans his head against Daniel's shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

Daniel's heart is pounding, he stares at the TV but still sees nothing. Max feels warm and weighty and all Daniel can think of is how easy it would be to gently lift Max's jaw just a bit and do what he's for some reason absolutely dying to do now; he plays it in his head over and over again, how it would feel like, how it would _sound_ like, whether Max would taste of something specific.

He imagines it and loops it in his head for what feels like an eternity and can't do it, no. After an indeterminable amount of time Max suddenly startles and twitches against Daniel, almost having fallen asleep, and decides to go back to his own room because he's obviously bothered Daniel enough for one evening. Daniel says it's nothing and that he hopes it'll get better for him; Max smiles a warm, sleepy smile and thanks him, saying he's much better already. Max heads to the corridor, stretching his arms and yawning as he walks away, and Daniel stays there, watching him for a moment before closing the door. He goes to bed, tries to sleep but just keeps shifting and turning restlessly for a while before he ends up jerking himself off while thinking about Max the whole time.

And then the next evening it's nothing but an infinite sundown as they're both out of the race almost immediately after the start, Max just slightly bumping into Hamilton but puncturing a tyre and Daniel's turbo deciding to call it a day after doing barely any work at all. They don't see each other after that, both wanting nothing more but neither daring to move.  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What started in chilly Barcelona will come to an end in chilly Barcelona.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wise man once said "aahh you have to finish it you can't just leave it at Dan wanting to kiss Max". I finished, and now you can find out whether they ever kiss or if the tag "firsts" actually refers to them dancing Macarena for the first time ;)

  
Barcelona is still in Spain. Spain is still in the southernmost part of whole Europe, so it still should be one of Europe's warmest places. And yet it's cold in there again.

It's different kind of cold this time, it's not snowing and the temperature is not below freezing at least; it's just the kind of chill you feel when you've expected it to be a lot warmer, and Daniel has definitely expected it to be warmer in Spain in, y' know, mid-May, so having to wear multiple layers of clothing is to him a sign that it's still just too damn cold. He's fairly sure he heard somewhere that it's warmer even in Finland right now and wonders if the whole world has gone nuts. It probably has.

But if there's something that’s guaranteed to warm Daniel up and to light him up, time and time again, it's Max; and it makes Daniel’s chest swell and paralyzes him with fear at the same time.

Daniel has sailed through the past weeks in a haze, not being sure how much longer he'll be able to hold together, which is a fairly new feeling to him and not one he's coping with all that well. Everything feels like a rollercoaster at this point, going from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs in just fractions of a second. Bahrain had ended with absolute shithouse alright. Then he had gone on to _win_ in China - but of course only after his turbo failing again in the third free practice session, the team performing nothing short of a miracle by getting his car up and running again just in time to get him through the first qualifying. He hadn’t been able to hold back the tears on the podium, overcome by the sheer mixture of a myriad feelings, both the fresh and the long bottled up emotions desperately searching for an outlet.

Then Baku had happened. Daniel remembers being absolutely certain he could have kicked Max’s ass a million times rather than kiss him even once right after the crash; but after coming down from the adrenaline high again he had of course seen the situation more clearly and understood his part in it. They had handled it quickly and in the same civilized manner they have always done, forgiving each other and the team forgiving them, and Daniel had been able to go back to not knowing what to do with himself.

There are moments every now and then, split seconds and blinks of an eye, when Daniel briefly doubts if he actually is as alone in this as he thinks he is. There are things Max says, gestures he does, antics he gets up to that make Daniel wonder; but he can be sure of nothing else than the fear of getting it all completely wrong and making shits of everything that already exists, so wondering and imagining and making jokes is all he’s dared to do and all he'll probably ever be able to do.

What started in chilly Barcelona, however, will come to an end in chilly Barcelona. 

They’re shooting a video yet again. The team’s marketing department seems to have it easy nowadays, the two drivers basically just standing in front of a camera and talking to each other guaranteed to pass for high quality content. Daniel doesn’t mind, he likes just talking to Max, he just likes Max, yep, he definitely likes the guy all too much, for the love of God. So he’s back to doing his best to not give anything away again, he’s gotten quite good at that indeed with all the practice he’s been getting. There’s chatting about food, TV series, the track, driving; just ordinary, safe stuff that still makes Daniel feel downright nauseous since he can’t seem to help sinking deeper and deeper into his stupid feelings with every perfect-sounding answer stupid Max gives to the questions thrown at him.

The exact moment Daniel gets pushed to the edge doesn’t even make the final cut, ending up being extra material instead, but again Daniel swears he could strangle whoever it has been that has come up with the question ‘if you could have one of my body parts, which one would it be?’ without feeling bad about it at all. Max asks the question first, eyeing Daniel without bothering to conceal his amusement; and Daniel doesn’t know what goes into him but he just can’t resist beginning his answer with jokingly saying ‘I haven’t seen all of you…’, cursing himself the second he notices he can’t keep his pitch quite normal despite his best efforts. And then Max, fucking Max who just probably doesn’t know any better, asks ‘would you like to’, eyes irresistibly sparkling with the laughter he’s trying to suppress.

Daniel can barely contain himself, his first initial thought being _yeah, sure_ ; and that’s followed by _oh fuck shit come on get your shit together_. He proceeds to make a show out of it all yet again, as always, saying he’d take Max’s beautiful left kneecap, seeing Max shake his head at him and being horribly unsure if his jokes still sell.

And then Max’s answer to the same question leaves Daniel almost speechless for a moment, making him stare at the Dutchman in absolute disbelief and wonder what the hell he is up to, saying things like that to his face, before he remembers how words work again and stutters something as a reply. A minute later he doesn’t remember what he said.

Something inevitably and instantly changes, right in front of the still rolling cameras.

Daniel can’t help constantly side-eyeing Max for the rest of the weekend, throughout Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Almost everything goes like it has gone so many times already – decent practice sessions, the two of them getting P5 in P6 in qualifying, treating the press to the same vague comments as always, talking much but saying nothing. The race is different, however, feeling somehow twisted. Max finally gets the podium he’s so desperately chased after in the form of a third place – though even that doesn’t happen without drama, Max just slightly bumping into someone yet again and eventually finishing the race without the endplate of his front wing -, and Daniel spins on cold tyres just after the virtual safety car coming off, loudly cursing himself; feeling like instead of a braking point he’s hitting an inevitable breaking point.

Daniel goes to see Max later that night despite himself. Max is of course more than pleased with his efforts and clearly relieved beyond measure about finally having something to really celebrate after all the hardships and cock-ups of the season so far. He doesn’t shy away from tightly embracing Daniel the second he sees him, and Daniel is both reluctant to let go and extremely careful not to prolong anything, settling for some friendly patting on Max’s shoulder after a moment. All casual, all natural, yeah, definitely not like he’s been dying to get closer to his teammate than ever before since winter testing already.

“Congratulations again, mate”, he says and grins. He’s happy for Max, there’s no shame in that. “About time.”  
Max chuckles, takes his cap off and scratches the back of his head. “Thanks, mate. Yeah, it’s nice, it feels good.”  
He pauses for a second and bites the inside of his lip, oddly looking to Daniel like he’s gathering some kind of courage, and glances at the Aussie with warm eyes. “Although being on the podium would have of course been more fun if you had been there as well.”

_What?_

“Yeeah, I had some program of my own going on back there”, Daniel mumbles, getting completely taken aback again, and scratches the back of his head as well, unwillingly imitating Max. “But, uh, thanks, no worries, we’ll get there.”  
“I hope so”, says Max. “I definitely miss drinking champagne out of your disgusting, sweaty shoe.”  
“You said you’d take my nose.”

That isn’t really an answer to Max and it seems to make no sense at all, taken out of its context like that. Daniel is so confused it makes him light-headed, feeling like he’s in a foggy dream, words just starting to come out of his mouth without him having any power over it. Max looks baffled. The air around them is alive, tingling with electricity and anticipation.  
“What?”  
“You said… The other day. The body part question. Why the hell would you say you’d take my big ludicrous nose?” 

It’s like watching an accident happen without being able to stop it – or no, it’s like Daniel himself _is_ the accident he isn’t able to stop, and strangely enough he almost can’t be bothered to even try anymore. Max visibly blushes and shrugs, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a surprisingly coy smile.  
“Well, to be honest”, he starts, like Daniel has heard him start hundreds and again hundreds of times, why does the guy always need to be so goddamn _honest_ , “I just think you just shouldn’t always be so worried about it, you know. You- you look nice.”

_Ohhh shit._

“But I could also take your smile, if you like, it’s also nice.”

Daniel can do nothing but stare at Max as he speaks, seeing his reddened cheeks and the hesitant, questioning look in his eyes, and that’s when he finally, _finally_ gets over himself.

“Guess you’ll have to steal it from my lips, then.”

It’s such a mushy thing to say but it just comes out of Daniel’s mouth anyway as he steps forward, lifts his hands to the back of Max’s neck and kisses him like he would come undone if he didn’t.

It’s not exactly blissful. Daniel is feeling completely numb with terror and gets ready to more or less die when he feels Max stiffening and not kissing back, only letting out a small muffled noise against his lips instead; but then Daniel feels the Dutchman shifting and his hands suddenly on his sides, clenching his shirt in his fists, pulling him closer and trying to move his lips against the Aussie’s in an attempt to soften the rigid kiss a bit. Daniel pulls back, looks into Max’s bewildered eyes with equal bewilderment and has to take a deep breath because breathing is something he has completely forgotten about in the middle of all this. Those sharp, blue eyes of Max’s have never been wider.

Everything’s still for a moment, absolutely everything.

Then Max leans to tentatively catch Daniel’s lips with his own again; and it’s all different, the touch is light and tender and it makes Daniel’s chest explode with the force of a thousand suns.

“Oh my God, you did it first”, whispers Max against his mouth with a voice full of wonder, eyes closed. Daniel lets out a long shaky breath when he realizes what it means, that in those words he hears everything he’s been longing to hear for the whole spring. Suddenly his throat feels strangled and all of his words fail him. For a rare and short-lived moment there’s no joke he can make, nothing he can say, and he realizes his eyes are filled with tears only when he gets around noticing how cool the air feels on the wet trails on his cheeks.

“Well, y’ know what I think, sometimes you’ve just gotta lick the stamp and send it”, says Daniel quietly and chuckles through the tears. He’s shaking, his eyes are still locked with Max’s and his hands still on Max’s neck, as if he was afraid of breaking something if he moved them. Max smiles and gently wipes Daniel’s cheek with the back of his trembling hand.  
“Or you can lick your teammate”, he whispers, flashing a mischievous grin.

Daniel’s hearty laughter is mixed with the occasional choked sob.  
“Okay, that was good. That was so bad it’s good.”  
“Two asses, remember?” says Max, grinning again like he's never going to be able to stop.  
“Yeeah, exactly. And now, if said ass of a teammate actually _isn’t_ going to kill me after all…” starts Daniel slowly, with a straight up goofy expression on his face, running his thumb along Max’s jawline, “I’d like to lick him again.”  
“Sure”, Max answers, still in that familiar straightforward no-bullshit way of his, face lit up by what is perhaps the widest smile Daniel has ever seen on it so far.

Daniel thinks that he wasn’t wrong after all the last time they faced chilly Barcelona together: right now, at this moment, when he closes his eyes and kisses Max, he feels like he’s never going to be cold again, like Max is his Sun, and his Moon, and… whatever it was, stars, and his planets.  


  



End file.
